


So Much More Than I Can Carry

by TheLadyofSupernatural



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Coming Out, Dom/sub Undertones, First Time, Internalized Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-04-30 08:33:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14493012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyofSupernatural/pseuds/TheLadyofSupernatural
Summary: Richard has only truly apologized twice in his life.





	1. Chapter 1

Richard doesn't really do apologies. Not sincere ones, at least. In fact, the only time he can remember giving someone an apology that had nothing to do with some kind of manipulative gain in mind was after Anton had died. All he could think about as he looked into Jared's eyes was how much hurt he could see there. Generally, Richard was deeply lacking in empathy, especially when compared to Jared. But he'd spent enough time looking at Jared, enough time listening to him, to understand how Jared felt without words. 

Which was why he had an extremely difficult time looking Jared in the face. He knew Jared deserved better, he knew it. In a way, he was almost proud of Jared for leaving. Jared had more than once professed love for him, love Richard doesn't know how to return. How can he, when he can barely even acknowledge to himself that feelings for Jared are acceptable? 

When Richard lifted his eyes up to meet Jared's, he was expecting disgust, anger, disdain. But the immense empathy and love on Jared's face was somehow so much worse. Richard didn't deserve to be looked at like that. He made a stupid joke and fled.

Now Richard's heart is beating--not quite as hard as when he'd apologized to Jared--but far harder than necessary. He'd done a little cyber stalking, and discovered that Dana had a weakness for ice cream from Honey Tree Creamery. He loiters at the entrance of Dana's building around when he knows Dana gets off, feeling like a total creeper. A tiny drop of cold water hits his leg and he jerks away violently, falling face first into a wall. Great. Richard covers his bleeding face with his hand, and can't decide whether to laugh or scream about the fact that he'd almost broken his nose because he'd been terrified by _condensation_.

“Richard?”

Of course. His life is a series of embarrassing moments in front of people he'd like to impress, so obviously this is the only way this was ever going to go.

“Oh, shit, are you okay?”

Richard waves a hand, still covering his face. “I'll live,” he says thickly.

Dana sighs. “Come on,” he says, gesturing back into the building. “There's an on site nurse, she can help.” His eyes flick to the ice cream now melting on the sidewalk. “What are you doing here, Richard?”

Richard lowers his hands, and immediately regrets it at the look on Dana's face. “Come on,” Dana says, a little more insistently, walking back into the building. Richard follows, still a little blown away by the change in Dana's personality. He could see now why Jared thought they'd get along. 

Dana waits until Richard is fully bandaged up(not as bad as Richard had been afraid of, nothing broken, but he does have two deeply flattering black eyes) to speak again.

“So,” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall of the waiting room after Richard comes out, empty but for them.

Richard waits, but Dana doesn't seem inclined to say anything else. Richard shrugs nervously, wishing he had the ice cream and what small attractiveness he's ever possessed. Richard can't help but notice that Dana's leather motorcycle jacket is very tight, his shoulders and biceps looking larger than Richard had noticed before. Richard can feel blood creeping up his cheeks. _What's the deal with this guy? He's a multimillionare, there's no reason he can't afford jackets that fit. He looks ridiculous. Completely and utterly ridiculous._

“Richard.” Dana's voice cuts sharply through Richard's extremely unhelpful thoughts.

“I wanted to apologize.” The words fall from his lips without conscious thought. “I went behind your back, and it was wrong, and disrespectful." He chances a glance up. Dana still looks wary and somewhat disdainful, but there's a small light of interest there now. 

“What made you decide that?”

“You did.” Richard tries to hold Dana's gaze this time. He almost falters when their eyes meet. There's an intensity there that Richard has rarely seen before. A dominance. He licks his lips, and manages to continue. “I don't want to be a thief. I want to have integrity and decency.”

The scorn on Dana's expression softens into something almost resembling respect. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. It looks way too soft and clean to be end-of-day hair. By noon Richard's is always a greasy mess. He'd even needed to shower again before going to see Dana, and he had barely left the house that day. Fuck, Dana's speaking.

“—trying to convince me to take him back, with more of that 'radical candor' bullshit, and told me that he was the one who'd been hounding you. Still.” He pins Richard with a stern gaze that's doing funny things to Richard's chest and other parts he's trying to ignore. “You did go behind my back with him. You may not have initiated it, but you went along with it.”

Richard nods, trying to avert his gaze, but Dana's eyes follow his, and he finds he can't look away. “For wh—” Saliva starts to flood his mouth. _Shit. Please don't vomit, please don't vomit, not now._ He swallows. “For what it's worth, the night I went to his house I meant to tell him we should come clean with you.” Richard figures Dana doesn't need to know that he wouldn't have done that if it wasn't for Jared. 

A tiny smirk crosses Dana's face. “Were you now,” he says dryly. It's not a question, but Richard answers anyway.

“I was,” he says defensively.

The smile fades and the intensity returns. Richard doesn't try to look away again, though his whole face and neck are so hot it almost feels like he's burning. 

“I believe you,” Dana says finally. He seems more at ease now, though his eyes lose none of their focus. He glances down at Richard's pants, regrettably covered in mint chocolate chip. “What was the ice cream about?”

“Peace offering,” Richard shrugs. “I know it's your favorite.”

Dana frowns. “How do you know what my favorite ice cream is?”

If Richard had any more room left in his veins he's fairly certain the rest of the blood in his body would be going directly to his face. “I did some research.”

“You did some research.”

Another not question, but Richard can't seem to stfu. 

“Well, I figured you might be more willing to forgive me if I plied you with your favorite sugar first.” He looks back up at Dana. Like with Jared, he doesn't remotely anticipate Dana's reaction. He expects a mixture of alarm and disgust followed by the imminent arrival of security and a restraining order. He gets amusement and warmth. His throat goes dry. Dana really needs a looser jacket. 

“Well, I will admit to disappointment at the lack of ice cream.” He finally gives a real smile. _How are his teeth so white and perfect? Well, he's rich, that makes sense_. Richard manages to focus on Dana right before he speaks this time, thank fucking Einstein. “However, you are forgiven.”

A tightness in his chest Richard hadn't acknowledged existed subsides, and the pain in his nose rapidly fades. Dana pushes himself off the wall. 

“Are you hungry? There's a pretty decent steak house a couple of miles away.”

“I—yeah.” Richard has no idea if he's hungry or not. All he knows is that he doesn't want this man with soft looking hair and too-tight jacket and understanding mind to go away.

“How'd you get here?” Dana asks, leading Richard from the building.

“Uber.” 

“I have an extra helmet, if you want.” 

Richard's heart starts beating faster. Fuck yes, he wants. But the coward in him hesitates. 

“Is it...safe?”

For some reason Dana seems to find this amusing as well. “I'm almost certain you don't need me to give you motorcycle statistics.”

No. He really doesn't. Dana holds out the extra helmet. 

_What. What is happening._

Richard swallows again, and takes the helmet, fingers brushing Dana's. 

_Fuck. Please don't vomit._


	2. Chapter 2

Of course he does. 

It was going well for a while. The traffic was thin at that point, the air cool. Dana's leather jacket turned out to be as soft as his hair, which Richard had surreptitiously run his cheek against while wrapping his arms around Dana's middle.

Then there were curves. Many curves. One might argue too many.

Richard thinks he's to be commended for managing to wait until he reaches the bathroom to start vomiting. Dana turns out to be just as tactful as he is forgiving, and waits outside for Richard to collect himself. Richard rinses out his mouth several times, wishing desperately that he had gum on him. Really, he should start carrying a toothbrush with him at all times. 

Dana looks concerned, though he's trying to hide it. Richard flashes back to Jared saying that Dana thought he's bulimic. 

“It's just anxiety,” he says quickly. Dana's face clears. 

“Ah, yeah.” He smiles wryly. “I start crying.”

“Really?” Richard's astonished. Even if Dana's personality had stayed the same as when Richard met him, he can't imagine him crying. 

“Yeah, my doctor told me it's not uncommon.” His expression turns slightly sour. “He made sure to tell me that it's most common among women, though.”

“Well, when I had night sweats, my doctor told me that it would lead to bed wetting. A lot.” _Fuck. Why did I tell him that? Smooth, Richard, real smooth._

Dana's eyes widened at Richard's words, but then he bursts out laughing. “Why are doctors in Silicon Valley such shits?”

“I don't know, isn't everyone here?” Richard might come from a tiny town rampant with racism and homophobia, but as long as you looked like you fit in, everyone was kind to you. Here, it doesn't matter how well you fit in. All that matters is what you can do for someone, and if you can't do anything, you're not worth even an 'excuse me'.

“Fair enough,” Dana replies, still laughing. _Okay, those teeth can't be real. He had them made in some lab somewhere_. Dana gestures towards a table next to the fireplace. “Can you still eat?” he asks, the concern coming back. 

“Yeah, I can.” Richard usually can't eat for hours after vomiting, but there's something about Dana that makes his weak stomach harden slightly. Usually there's a fair amount of humiliation involved with the throwing up, but Dana hadn't made him feel self conscious at all. He knows now that even if it happens again, it'll be okay.

A woman in a red evening gown comes up to their table and bows low, dark curls brushing the edge of the lacy tablecloth. “Good evening, Dana,” she says, true warmth in every word. 

“Good evening, Jasmine.” He smiles back at her, and Richard doesn't know why, but all of a sudden he hates everything about her, from her low cut dress to her clearly overdone makeup and frizzed hair, and are those extensions? Then she turns her gaze on Richard, and the simmering fury dies when he sees a tiny little gay pride flag charm hanging from her bracelet, though for the life of him he can't explain why. 

“I'm Jasmine,” she introduces herself sweetly, holding out her hand.

“Uh...Richard, I am. I mean, I am Richard.” He can feel Dana's eyes on him, and wills his blood away from his face. Jasmine lets out a tinkling laugh.

“It's nice to meet you, Richard. Dana, would you like me to bring menus?”

Dana's eyes flick to Richard. “Is there anything you hate?” he inquires.

“Um...I really shouldn't have cilantro.” Even though he fucking loves it. Still, he vividly remembers going to a Mexican restaurant a couple months ago and ignoring Jared's dire warnings, only to end up shaking on the bathroom floor while Jared handed him water and didn't say 'I told you so', because Jared is a wonderful person.

“Richard?”

Richard snaps to. To his relief, Dana looks curious rather than annoyed. “Avocado,” Richard says quickly. “And bacon.”

“You don't like bacon?” Dana raises his eyebrows. Richard shrugs. 

“It's the texture-flavor combination. I like the flavor of it if it's lightly cooked, but then it's gross and rubbery. And by the time it becomes crispy enough for me, it stops tasting the way I like.”

Dana stares. Richard knows he's going red at this point, battle lost. 

“So...it either tastes good and feels bad, or tastes bad and feels good?”

Richard nods.

“Okay,” Dana says easily.

“...Okay?”

Dana frowns. “Of course. Why wouldn't it be?”

Richard shrugs, picking at a tiny piece of chocolate still stuck to his jeans. “Most people argue with me about it. Insist that there's a way that I haven't thought of.”

“Well, those people suck.”

Richard lets out an involuntary, extremely embarrassingly loud laugh. The whole restaurant goes silent. Richard's mouth starts to flood with saliva. Once again.

“Do you trust me?”

Richard's eyes snap back to Dana's. There's that intensity. “Yes.” He doesn't know why. But he does. 

“Jasmine, bring us my favorite.” His eyes don't leave Richard's this time. The firelight is reflecting off of them, turning them almost amber. “Do you drink?”

“I do, but...” _But I don't want to forget any of this_. Dana seems to understand. Or at the very least doesn't want to argue about it.

“Iced tea?” 

Richard nods vigorously. Growing up in the south, iced tea was a staple of summer(which lasted most of the year where he was from). He honestly can't think of anything better at the moment. 

Dana looks far more amused than the situation warrants, in Richard's opinion, but his smile lights up his whole face, and Richard can almost feel it. He knows in that moment that he would do anything to keep that smile there. He vaguely notices Jasmine leaving, but Dana doesn't look away for a moment, and Richard finds that he can't either. Dana cocks his head and rests it on his fist. 

“What made you decide to tell Ben that you two should talk to me directly? It's not easy to do that, especially for someone with anxiety.”

“Jared.” Richard doesn't exactly want to volunteer that information, but there's something about Dana that makes him feel like he can't lie. “He...he believes in me. And his advice is...well, shit, it's actually always good advice.” Richard can't believe that never occurred to him before. If Jared makes a suggestion, it's always the right one. “Anyway, he made me realize how wrong it was to do it behind your back.” Richard pauses. “And he also has these puppy dog eyes that make it really hard for me to refuse him.” More and more lately. 

Dana looks a little cautious, for some reason. “How long have you two been together?”

Richard can't figure out why, but there's something beneath the nonchalance in Dana's voice that's making Richard's abdomen feel tight, though in a weirdly good way. “We're not,” he shakes his head, not certain why his words came out so rapidly. “We just work together. It's not like that.” Richard's quiet for a moment. “But we are close.”

Dana seems to relax slightly. “Well, Jared does give great advice. I almost lost my company because I ignored it once.”

“No shit. Me too.”

Dana grins. “I'll tell you my story if you tell me yours.”

Richard shouldn't. He knows he shouldn't. But there's just something about Dana that makes Richard want to tell him everything. 

“Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is a kind of off the cuff ficlet. If it receives enough interest I'd be happy to continue it. I also don't have a particular end game. Like with the rest of life, I'll see where it goes as it comes to me and I receive feedback. Please let me know what you think, and feel free to tell me what you'd like to see!


End file.
